he'd thought, when he first realized what was happening - at least i can do something, here. at least i don't have to watch, like he had to watch wenzhou and nahri and eiden earlier today on that screen, nearly pressing himself to the glass.
but it's worse, here, because he can't do anything, after all. the minute he gets close, he feels the urge to retch, and it's not shenhe's fault - he takes a steadying breath, and tries to block it out, even if the sight itself is warring with his own worry and terror for her.
...
he kneels down, not caring that he fucks up his nice suit. he looks awful, now, sweaty and pale white, but he stubbornly presses his lips together, tries to stop breathing through his nose, and says: ]
...Shenhe. [ more gently, this time, a little hoarse, stumbling over his own trauma: or, at least, trying to. ] Can you hear me?
[she startles, sharply, like an animal. something feral, something trapped.
her grip on her axe tightens, and she stares at him with wide eyes, breath short and panicky. no, not him too. not him, she can't - do more, she can't do more. she has to, or time will stop again. she looks at him wildly, and then behind him, and to the side of him, and closes her eyes and hides her face in her knees. don't make her do more.]
he can't get any closer or it's going to end badly for them both, and he looks - extremely distressed, for as much as fei du's face can form the expression of Extremely Distressed, brows knitted together, biting his pale lip. ]
Shenhe. [ he says, again, when she starts to panic. it's the same voice he talked to mother he in, what feels like years ago. ] You're here, now. Aren't you? You're in Shibuya. With me, with everyone else you came back with. I need you to try and breathe.
[ at the end of his sentence, he does have to muffle a retch - but he does, and scoots forward, precariously. ]
she hasn't spoken for a while, now. she doesn't know if she can force herself to do it. she breathes in - it whistles, like the arrow did some damage. speak. you can speak. you opened your eyes and you stood up, with a mission, and you spoke. you are... you are an axe, you are a spirit, and...]
Th... this. This. [she starts, and her voice is cracked and hoarse, and she can feel it building up in her throat, behind her eyes. but this time... this time, instead of being incapable of it? this time she does cry.
she starts to cry, tears rolling down her cheeks as she looks up at him. or. well, presumably it's tears, but they're blood. she is crying blood.]
You - you can't look. [she says, stupidly, voice breaking.]
[ i hate that. fei du's stomach lurches again, at the sight - his expression breaks this time, more honestly. he looks even worse, now, the heartbroken worry mixing with the horrible, well conditioned response. fei du swallows, lifting his hands like he's trying to placate. ]
Okay. Okay, alright.
[ his voice stays soft, but he lifts his hand and takes off his glasses, and then carefully slides his other hand over his own eyes. it does actually help, to take the sight away, helps him keep his careful thoughts in line, force back the conditioning and the nausea, because - he wants to help. ]
I'm not looking. [ gentle. ] Now. This is Shibuya, right? You're back here, with the rest of us. You worried me - I couldn't find you anywhere.
[she is... she is an axe. she is a weapon, she is a cursed weapon and she had a mission. but she isn't. she's not. she drags in another whistling, awful breath, and holds her axe so tightly the plastic creaks. she hiccups.]
A mission. [she says. her mind keeps wandering. she can't look either. over his shoulder, a woman with long blonde hair smiles at her and then laughs, and laughs, and laughs and she flinches, closing her eyes.]
I'm... I'm Shenhe. Divine Axe of Devastation. [she mumbles.] We failed. We failed it.
[ hmm hate that. he can't see her, now, so he misses the flinch, but every whistling, miserable breath feels like it's in stereo. he can work with that.
fei du nudges forward a little further. ]
You're Shenhe, my friend. [ he says, instead, correcting. kind, but firm. ] And the mission you were tasked with was the same kind of experience that I went through. Like a lucid, painful version of reality, but it wasn't real.
[ another few inches forward, fei du thinks he can't be that much far from her now. the smell is getting stronger, and even if it makes his stomach churn, he pushes forward. ]
Of course you did. [ he says, and there's a gentleness to it, a recognition. of course you did. he wouldn't expect anything less. ] ...Whether you failed or not, it still matters, that you tried.
[ as he makes it a little closer, he slowly, carefully, lifts his free hand out towards shenhe. ]
[he's a little closer, and she stares at his hand.]
No. [she nearly coughs out the word.] The - history corrected itself. All of the rebels died. I killed them. I killed Nahri. I killed Wolfwood. They were - they.
[monster. you're a monster.]
They were children. I took them to a rebel camp and I slaughtered them.
[ the hand stays, unflinching, long fingers unfurling to an open palm.
that's - horrifying. by now, fei du has learned that these little adventures often feature people they know from home, and that perhaps he was lucky that he didn't have the same experience. they're psychological gauntlets, designed to torture. designed to hurt. ]
... Nahri and Wolfwood are alive. [ just a quiet restatement of fact. ] On the other side. We could go look at the screens and see them.
It doesn't matter. [she knows. it wasn't real. it couldn't have been. she's never seen wolfwood and nahri as seven, eight years old. she doesn't know what they looked like. it wasn't actually them.]
I was... I was the axe. I am. I felt it. [she felt what a blade feels when it finds flesh.] It was my fault. Because I wanted to save them, the world ended.
You aren't anymore. [ it's that same tone. just as firm, just as gentle, all at once. that dissociative, disconnected, awful feeling is so familiar, but he roots himself in knowing how to handle trauma, in recognizing the places that fei du and shenhe are the same and using them to help reel her back in.
his hand stretches back out, a little further. ]
Your choices were stolen from you, like it's trying to steal your identity away, too. If you felt it, then that doesn't make it any less painful, or any less cruel. They were your choices to make, and you were punished for having autonomy in a situation you could not win.
[she's so afraid to take it. she wants to. she wants to feel real. she doesn't. she's still an axe, she's still not quite human, she has always been like this, she's always hurt everybody around her and maybe it was right to abandon her in that cave. she hiccups out a sob, the blood tears dripping down her face.]
I made up for it. [she mumbles.] I did the mission. It didn't matter. I killed them and it still ended.
[she shakily touches his hand. like she's not sure she's allowed.]
the minute it's shakily pressed against his, fei du wraps his slender fingers around her hand. they're soft, uncalloused, even after weeks of being in a murdergame - and more than anything else, they're confident. there is no fear, when he takes her hand the same way he took mother he's wrinkled, trembling one on his own.
because he's not afraid of shenhe. he could never be.
slowly, he starts to pull his other hand away from his eyes - they're still closed - and brings it down, so he can wrap it around her hand, too, and squeezes. ]
...I'm sorry, Shenhe. I'm sorry that happened to you.
[the worst part about this is that - is it hurts. she isn't sure it's supposed to hurt when she cries. she hasn't done it in so long that she doesn't know what's normal. but it physically hurts her to do, and she wants to stop, but the more she does it the more she can't.
she lets him hold onto her hand. coughs, a little. she can't breathe right. that hurts. her fingers wrap around his, unsteady. he's sorry. she's sorry too.
behind him, a tall woman with glasses and long black hair smiles at her, and laughs. and laughs, and laughs so hard it sounds like it's killing her. he can't see it. but she can.]
I don't know what to do now. [she says, watching cloud retainer giggle like a madman over fei du's shoulder. she's so tired. she's still injured, and she thinks if she tried to stand her legs would give out.]
[ im frowning like a cartoon character my poor bird
okay. they're getting somewhere. fei du's going to do something stupid - but it's not like he walked here, just out to the park, so. he squeezes her hand, gently, taking the unsteady grip and trying to reassure it. ]
I do. [ because of course he does. actually, he doesn't. this is so, so far outside of his comfort zone, but that's okay - he's going to figure it out, lay out a logical turn of events. and curled up and miserable like this cannot be a place to start. he would know - he's spent too many days vibrating with too much electricity on the floor of his basement, or throwing up until his insides were burning because he took his emetics too far. ]
...Let's get you cleaned up. Maybe someone has some juice left to heal you a little more. We can cover that, too. [ or she could like, die, but he does not want to think about that right now. i hope she got more healing. jesus christ
fei du's voice stays gentle and quiet, hopefully enough to be heard over the terrible laughter hallucination, and he keeps his eyes closed. ] And once we've done that, we can go from there. If I turn around, can you get on my back?
[ in any other situation - and maybe in this one? - it might be a little funny. but, he's piggybacked wenzhou before out of sheer spite, he can get shenhe. ]
[well fun story about the healing or die, she does both! that's for later, though.
for now, he squeezes her hand and she nods. cleaned up sounds... nice. she doesn't want to be covered in blood. she wants to be clean and warm and safe, and she has been none of those things for hours now. so, when he suggests it, she slowly uncurls, letting her feet touch the ground.
which means she bleeds more. she just watches it drip down from her shoulder and like, most of her torso with a blank look. that's cool. awesome. he isn't looking, but she's wildly injured, with multiple holes run through her, as well as a general crispiness that feels like maybe it's more electric based than anything. she's not sure she can stand without collapsing, actually, which is the only reason she's even considering letting him try to carry her.]
I don't... I don't think you can. [but she sounds like maybe she is about to pass out so he might not have to argue with her too much.]
[ also shenhe is way lighter than wenzhou so this should be doable. he turns around, opening his eyes now so he can look forward, and adjusts, holding out his arms so she can climb onto his back. the blood smell makes him horrifically, painfully nauseous when it gets worse, but he presses his lips together tight and swallows a retch. ]
she doesn't want to make him throw up... she doesn't want to get blood on him, either, because there's so much of it, and it isn't all her own. some of it is nahri's. some of it is wolfwood's. her head spins violently as she stands, and she nearly falls right back down.
so she hesitates, but. after a second she slowly moves forward to get on his back. he can carry her but she's going to pass out, 100%, before they get to wherever.]
[ yeah it's fine he's going to barf everywhere but like hell he's going to do it now. fei du is too fucking stubborn, and his well conditioned reflexes are a result of that exact same stubbornness, so now he is going to ignore it. for as much as his carefully conditioned mental state allowed him to thrive - allowed him to become what he wanted, not what his father did - here, it's been a hindrance, and he's done everything in his power to try and just deal with it. for the sake of shenhe, he has to try.
he gets shenhe up on his back! and it's okay, if she passes out. frankly? that's probably better. it's a little wobbly, but he grits his teeth and will carry her all the way back out to his fancy car, and then drive her sad, despairing, passed out ass back to the hotel where she can get cleaned up. it is a testament to his friendship and how much he cares about shenhe that he would rather have to clean a terrible amount of blood out of his brand new car and his expensive suit that he just got than let her suffer for a single second longer than she has to.
at some point, fei du will have to leave shenhe in someone else's care for a bit because he is absurdly, stupidly ill after doing this, but it's worth it. it's always worth it.
when shenhe wakes up, there's a message on her phone, too, that says: ]
There's an empty room down the hall from the others that I got the key for. When you wake up, send me a message and I'll come get you.
she talks to a few other people. and in that span, someone offers her a little bit of relief, and she takes it. when she comes back a few hours later after not existing for a bit, she's wrung out entirely. but. she's clean. she washes her hair and she throws out her clothes, and she crawls into her crop top sweatshirt and her fashionable sweatpants and wanders out into the hotel with damp hair. physically, she's fine. no whistling breath, no gory wounds.
she picks up her toy axe and she carries it out with her.
nahri is on this floor. she's smiling at her brightly, and then she starts to laugh, and shenhe feels something bright and painful twist in her, and - blood drips to the carpet. alarmed, she presses her fingers to her cheeks, looking at the blood that comes away, and then she spins and goes right back into her room.
the mirror is worse.
it takes a while for her to remember to answer her phone. when she does, even her text sounds like she's teetering on the edge of breaking:]
[ bad. bad! now that fei du isn't nauseous he's been running around shibuya to gather Things, checking his phone every few minutes like a hawk. when he finally sees the ping from shenhe, he turns right back around and starts hauling ass back towards the hotel. that's probably where she is? probably? ]
[thankfully shenhe didn't go far - she's just sitting in the lobby, when he comes back. she's clean, sitting on a chair, hunched over, with towel pressed to her face. he might be able to see the spots of red on it, but that's the only blood that she's got on her now, at least.
she doesn't like this - it hurts, it feels like tiny daggers in her skull, but she can't stop doing it. crying is stupid, she can't even - get any catharsis out of it because it feels so bad to do.
but at least this time she is cognizant that someone is approaching, and she hurriedly tries to wipe her face before looking up at him, hesitant.
[ thankfully he's already emptied his stomach so many times that a small amount of blood isn't like, nightmarishly bad - just a little queasy. what is bad is that he can see that those are, in fact, tears made of blood streaming down her face, and not just extra blood from a random injury.
when he comes in the door, shenhe might notice a couple of things! first of all, he's changed into a different fancy boy outfit (did i really need to link this? no. did i want to? yes.) and second of all, he's got a big shopping bag over his arm. thirdly, his face shifts into surprise, and then realization, and then a brief flicker of shock, and then melts into something more familiar, a gentle smile. he looks like the tiniest bit green, but, it is a marked improvement from earlier. ]
... Your eyes are too pretty to have to cry like that. [ weh. it must be some kind of residual effect, or something - it sucks that she DIED and it didn't fix it, but he will keep that to himself. not for the first time wishing he had healing aura, he comes over, and offers her his free hand. ]
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he'd thought, when he first realized what was happening - at least i can do something, here. at least i don't have to watch, like he had to watch wenzhou and nahri and eiden earlier today on that screen, nearly pressing himself to the glass.
but it's worse, here, because he can't do anything, after all. the minute he gets close, he feels the urge to retch, and it's not shenhe's fault - he takes a steadying breath, and tries to block it out, even if the sight itself is warring with his own worry and terror for her.
...
he kneels down, not caring that he fucks up his nice suit. he looks awful, now, sweaty and pale white, but he stubbornly presses his lips together, tries to stop breathing through his nose, and says: ]
...Shenhe. [ more gently, this time, a little hoarse, stumbling over his own trauma: or, at least, trying to. ] Can you hear me?
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her grip on her axe tightens, and she stares at him with wide eyes, breath short and panicky. no, not him too. not him, she can't - do more, she can't do more. she has to, or time will stop again. she looks at him wildly, and then behind him, and to the side of him, and closes her eyes and hides her face in her knees. don't make her do more.]
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he can't get any closer or it's going to end badly for them both, and he looks - extremely distressed, for as much as fei du's face can form the expression of Extremely Distressed, brows knitted together, biting his pale lip. ]
Shenhe. [ he says, again, when she starts to panic. it's the same voice he talked to mother he in, what feels like years ago. ] You're here, now. Aren't you? You're in Shibuya. With me, with everyone else you came back with. I need you to try and breathe.
[ at the end of his sentence, he does have to muffle a retch - but he does, and scoots forward, precariously. ]
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she hasn't spoken for a while, now. she doesn't know if she can force herself to do it. she breathes in - it whistles, like the arrow did some damage. speak. you can speak. you opened your eyes and you stood up, with a mission, and you spoke. you are... you are an axe, you are a spirit, and...]
Th... this. This. [she starts, and her voice is cracked and hoarse, and she can feel it building up in her throat, behind her eyes. but this time... this time, instead of being incapable of it? this time she does cry.
she starts to cry, tears rolling down her cheeks as she looks up at him. or. well, presumably it's tears, but they're blood. she is crying blood.]
You - you can't look. [she says, stupidly, voice breaking.]
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Okay. Okay, alright.
[ his voice stays soft, but he lifts his hand and takes off his glasses, and then carefully slides his other hand over his own eyes. it does actually help, to take the sight away, helps him keep his careful thoughts in line, force back the conditioning and the nausea, because - he wants to help. ]
I'm not looking. [ gentle. ] Now. This is Shibuya, right? You're back here, with the rest of us. You worried me - I couldn't find you anywhere.
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[she is... she is an axe. she is a weapon, she is a cursed weapon and she had a mission. but she isn't. she's not. she drags in another whistling, awful breath, and holds her axe so tightly the plastic creaks. she hiccups.]
A mission. [she says. her mind keeps wandering. she can't look either. over his shoulder, a woman with long blonde hair smiles at her and then laughs, and laughs, and laughs and she flinches, closing her eyes.]
I'm... I'm Shenhe. Divine Axe of Devastation. [she mumbles.] We failed. We failed it.
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fei du nudges forward a little further. ]
You're Shenhe, my friend. [ he says, instead, correcting. kind, but firm. ] And the mission you were tasked with was the same kind of experience that I went through. Like a lucid, painful version of reality, but it wasn't real.
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I... I killed... [she says, distantly. she's having a hard time staying connected to reality.] We were told to fail.
[her words are unsteady and trembling, even as she gets them out.] But I didn't... I didn't want to. I could save them. I tried to save them.
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Of course you did. [ he says, and there's a gentleness to it, a recognition. of course you did. he wouldn't expect anything less. ] ...Whether you failed or not, it still matters, that you tried.
[ as he makes it a little closer, he slowly, carefully, lifts his free hand out towards shenhe. ]
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[he's a little closer, and she stares at his hand.]
No. [she nearly coughs out the word.] The - history corrected itself. All of the rebels died. I killed them. I killed Nahri. I killed Wolfwood. They were - they.
[monster. you're a monster.]
They were children. I took them to a rebel camp and I slaughtered them.
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that's - horrifying. by now, fei du has learned that these little adventures often feature people they know from home, and that perhaps he was lucky that he didn't have the same experience. they're psychological gauntlets, designed to torture. designed to hurt. ]
... Nahri and Wolfwood are alive. [ just a quiet restatement of fact. ] On the other side. We could go look at the screens and see them.
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It doesn't matter. [she knows. it wasn't real. it couldn't have been. she's never seen wolfwood and nahri as seven, eight years old. she doesn't know what they looked like. it wasn't actually them.]
I was... I was the axe. I am. I felt it. [she felt what a blade feels when it finds flesh.] It was my fault. Because I wanted to save them, the world ended.
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You aren't anymore. [ it's that same tone. just as firm, just as gentle, all at once. that dissociative, disconnected, awful feeling is so familiar, but he roots himself in knowing how to handle trauma, in recognizing the places that fei du and shenhe are the same and using them to help reel her back in.
his hand stretches back out, a little further. ]
Your choices were stolen from you, like it's trying to steal your identity away, too. If you felt it, then that doesn't make it any less painful, or any less cruel. They were your choices to make, and you were punished for having autonomy in a situation you could not win.
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I made up for it. [she mumbles.] I did the mission. It didn't matter. I killed them and it still ended.
[she shakily touches his hand. like she's not sure she's allowed.]
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the minute it's shakily pressed against his, fei du wraps his slender fingers around her hand. they're soft, uncalloused, even after weeks of being in a murdergame - and more than anything else, they're confident. there is no fear, when he takes her hand the same way he took mother he's wrinkled, trembling one on his own.
because he's not afraid of shenhe. he could never be.
slowly, he starts to pull his other hand away from his eyes - they're still closed - and brings it down, so he can wrap it around her hand, too, and squeezes. ]
...I'm sorry, Shenhe. I'm sorry that happened to you.
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she lets him hold onto her hand. coughs, a little. she can't breathe right. that hurts. her fingers wrap around his, unsteady. he's sorry. she's sorry too.
behind him, a tall woman with glasses and long black hair smiles at her, and laughs. and laughs, and laughs so hard it sounds like it's killing her. he can't see it. but she can.]
I don't know what to do now. [she says, watching cloud retainer giggle like a madman over fei du's shoulder. she's so tired. she's still injured, and she thinks if she tried to stand her legs would give out.]
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okay. they're getting somewhere. fei du's going to do something stupid - but it's not like he walked here, just out to the park, so. he squeezes her hand, gently, taking the unsteady grip and trying to reassure it. ]
I do. [ because of course he does. actually, he doesn't. this is so, so far outside of his comfort zone, but that's okay - he's going to figure it out, lay out a logical turn of events. and curled up and miserable like this cannot be a place to start. he would know - he's spent too many days vibrating with too much electricity on the floor of his basement, or throwing up until his insides were burning because he took his emetics too far. ]
...Let's get you cleaned up. Maybe someone has some juice left to heal you a little more. We can cover that, too. [ or she could like, die, but he does not want to think about that right now. i hope she got more healing. jesus christ
fei du's voice stays gentle and quiet, hopefully enough to be heard over the terrible laughter hallucination, and he keeps his eyes closed. ] And once we've done that, we can go from there. If I turn around, can you get on my back?
[ in any other situation - and maybe in this one? - it might be a little funny. but, he's piggybacked wenzhou before out of sheer spite, he can get shenhe. ]
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for now, he squeezes her hand and she nods. cleaned up sounds... nice. she doesn't want to be covered in blood. she wants to be clean and warm and safe, and she has been none of those things for hours now. so, when he suggests it, she slowly uncurls, letting her feet touch the ground.
which means she bleeds more. she just watches it drip down from her shoulder and like, most of her torso with a blank look. that's cool. awesome. he isn't looking, but she's wildly injured, with multiple holes run through her, as well as a general crispiness that feels like maybe it's more electric based than anything. she's not sure she can stand without collapsing, actually, which is the only reason she's even considering letting him try to carry her.]
I don't... I don't think you can. [but she sounds like maybe she is about to pass out so he might not have to argue with her too much.]
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[ also shenhe is way lighter than wenzhou so this should be doable. he turns around, opening his eyes now so he can look forward, and adjusts, holding out his arms so she can climb onto his back. the blood smell makes him horrifically, painfully nauseous when it gets worse, but he presses his lips together tight and swallows a retch. ]
Come on.
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she doesn't want to make him throw up... she doesn't want to get blood on him, either, because there's so much of it, and it isn't all her own. some of it is nahri's. some of it is wolfwood's. her head spins violently as she stands, and she nearly falls right back down.
so she hesitates, but. after a second she slowly moves forward to get on his back. he can carry her but she's going to pass out, 100%, before they get to wherever.]
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he gets shenhe up on his back! and it's okay, if she passes out. frankly? that's probably better. it's a little wobbly, but he grits his teeth and will carry her all the way back out to his fancy car, and then drive her sad, despairing, passed out ass back to the hotel where she can get cleaned up. it is a testament to his friendship and how much he cares about shenhe that he would rather have to clean a terrible amount of blood out of his brand new car and his expensive suit that he just got than let her suffer for a single second longer than she has to.
at some point, fei du will have to leave shenhe in someone else's care for a bit because he is absurdly, stupidly ill after doing this, but it's worth it. it's always worth it.
when shenhe wakes up, there's a message on her phone, too, that says: ]
There's an empty room down the hall from the others that I got the key for. When you wake up, send me a message and I'll come get you.
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she talks to a few other people. and in that span, someone offers her a little bit of relief, and she takes it. when she comes back a few hours later after not existing for a bit, she's wrung out entirely. but. she's clean. she washes her hair and she throws out her clothes, and she crawls into her crop top sweatshirt and her fashionable sweatpants and wanders out into the hotel with damp hair. physically, she's fine. no whistling breath, no gory wounds.
she picks up her toy axe and she carries it out with her.
nahri is on this floor. she's smiling at her brightly, and then she starts to laugh, and shenhe feels something bright and painful twist in her, and - blood drips to the carpet. alarmed, she presses her fingers to her cheeks, looking at the blood that comes away, and then she spins and goes right back into her room.
the mirror is worse.
it takes a while for her to remember to answer her phone. when she does, even her text sounds like she's teetering on the edge of breaking:]
I can't tell if I'm still covered in blood or not
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Where are you
Stay put
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[thankfully shenhe didn't go far - she's just sitting in the lobby, when he comes back. she's clean, sitting on a chair, hunched over, with towel pressed to her face. he might be able to see the spots of red on it, but that's the only blood that she's got on her now, at least.
she doesn't like this - it hurts, it feels like tiny daggers in her skull, but she can't stop doing it. crying is stupid, she can't even - get any catharsis out of it because it feels so bad to do.
but at least this time she is cognizant that someone is approaching, and she hurriedly tries to wipe her face before looking up at him, hesitant.
she doesn't want to make him sick again...]
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when he comes in the door, shenhe might notice a couple of things! first of all, he's changed into a different fancy boy outfit (did i really need to link this? no. did i want to? yes.) and second of all, he's got a big shopping bag over his arm. thirdly, his face shifts into surprise, and then realization, and then a brief flicker of shock, and then melts into something more familiar, a gentle smile. he looks like the tiniest bit green, but, it is a marked improvement from earlier. ]
... Your eyes are too pretty to have to cry like that. [ weh. it must be some kind of residual effect, or something - it sucks that she DIED and it didn't fix it, but he will keep that to himself. not for the first time wishing he had healing aura, he comes over, and offers her his free hand. ]
Come on.
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